


Is There No Peace?

by boredbrooder



Series: Is There No Peace? [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Emotional Trauma, Past Torture, Whump, mentions of non-con/rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 05:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17298713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredbrooder/pseuds/boredbrooder
Summary: Just imagine what Thor would do if he found Victor and Azuo using Doll.This is a fanfic of a fanfic by maniploki.  Please see her short stories for more on these characters.





	Is There No Peace?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ManipLoki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManipLoki/gifts).



RAGING ROAR! Mjolnir flew through the air. The one on top toppled to the ground as the weapon flew back into the god's open fist.  
The one on bottom spoke. "You are scared. You are unable to move."

Thor sneered at him through glowing eyes. "You think you can manipulate me, little man?" But fear welled up in his chest. He attempted to lift the hammer. It wouldn’t raise. He attempted to step forward. Nothing responded to his commands to move. How is it possible his own body failed to obey? Fear grew as he realized his helplessness.  
Doll was trapped on the bed, bound by his own restraints. But his Seidr was low, impossibly low. Could he withstand the burning collar of obedience to use his own mind powers to overpower Azuo and save Thor in hopes of Thor being able to save Doll in return?  
Doll closed his eyes and concentrated. He would need all his focus. It was doubly hard with a cock buried in him. He reached out his mind. He poured himself into the vampire. He found his voice of command and attacked it! Burning demanded his return to his own body. Doll would not listen. He surrounded the voice of command and tightened himself around it. someone was screaming, but Doll could not stop. He squeezed and strangled the voice until someone forcibly wrenched him from the bed.  
It was Thor. "Brother, Loki. Are you alright?"

The slave returned to his own mind in time to hear the question. Loki? He knew that name. Who was Loki? It was him. He was Loki. He WAS Loki. No more.

"My name is Doll," the slave said dully. Thor creased his brow in confusion. 

On the bed, Azuo lay panting and sweating. He'd never been attacked like that before. His powers were crippled. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to recover. He felt so helpless.

"Victor," he groaned, hoping to rouse his fallen companion.

 

The god of thunder peered over the far side of the bed to make sure the other adversary was no threat. He lay unconscious, likely dead. He stooped to pick up his weakened brother and strolled hurriedly out the door. He crashed through the nearest window before Magis's armed forces could reach them. Swinging his hammer, he lifted them into the air and carried them to safety.  
Thor placed the naked man on a patch of soft grass on the rocky cliff.

"Loki?" he asked, moving stray hair from the pale face. Doll quickly pulled away and scrambled into the submission position he'd learned so well. He waited for this new person to inspect him.  
"Loki, what are you doing?" Thor asked. "It's me, your brother." His mind churned to understand, but the rules were still in place.

"My name is Doll," he intoned dryly. He dared not look at one of Magis's guests.

"You are Loki, my brother!" Thor growled, grasping the back of his neck. A new order. Something shifted in his head. Doll was pushed aside. Doll had a new name, or rather his old name.  
"Loki, what have they done to you?" The mighty man's eyes were swimming, his voice was strained.

"I am a slave for their use. I am for your use. I am at your service. What would you will of me?" Loki could not even attempt to sound the least bit eager to comply, but the words were expected of him.

"Use you? You're a prince! How could they enslave a son of Odin?" Thor growled and turned away, looking over the dark expanse of night in the forest. The blond hadn't realized it. He'd given another order. Something shifted in Loki's head. A prince? Could he be both prince and slave?  
Thor turned back and reached a hand for his brother's shoulder. The slave-prince pulled back automatically. He flinched, then cowered. He waited for the punishing blow. None came. Thor approached slower and looked at the damaged skin around the long, pale neck.

"You should heal that if you can," he said kindly, trying to approach the trembling man with gentleness. Another order. The skin started to regrow. But his Seidr was still low. The wound didn't heal entirely.

"What's wrong?" Thor asked, trying to catch his brother's eyes. Loki still would not look up.

"My Seidr is low. That is all the further I can heal for now." How it hurt the elder prince to hear his brother's voice without the playful lilt or amused undertone. Slowly, slowly, he raised his large hand, fingers stretched slightly, and lifted Loki's chin. Guests often did this to him when they wanted a better view of his "pretty face", as they called it.

Loki allowed his head to be lifted. Then he lifted his eyes, taking in the familiar face, now turned toward sadness and confusion. Still, he did his best to avoid locking eyes. Thor couldn't stand it! They had broken him! His insatiable brother, the god of mischief, reduced to a cowering, obedient thrall! He gritted his teeth and released the chin. Loki lowered his head once more.

"They put rules on you," Thor guessed, pacing anxiously in front of the submissive thrall. "Commands that are held in place by magic?" Loki confirmed it. "These commands can be broken by other commands?" Loki confirmed again.

Thor stopped pacing and looked at Loki again, trying and failing to capture his gaze. "Brother, I order all current rules removed. You now have no commands restricting you. Do you understand?" Another strange shift told Loki that the command was accepted. Still, there were learned behaviors that had nothing to do with magic.

"Loki, put some clothes on," Thor suggested. He didn't mean for everything to come out demanding, it just did. The naked man didn't move. He looked confused.

All rules and commands that had bound him were removed. Did that mean the ones about his name? Was he Doll again? Or still Loki? He'd been Loki first, was he Loki now? And what of his status? Prince? Slave? Was he still a slave despite the removal of the orders? Could he claim the title of prince again? He was born a prince, but he'd had that title stripped of him by the All-father himself. Who was this naked, trembling man now?

Thor watched as Loki grappled with his identity. He could not guess what was going through the fractured mind. He only knew Loki did not do as requested. Thor took action himself. He removed his bright red cape (the color of power, Loki noted) and draped it over the other man's emaciated frame. He flinched. Slaves were not allowed to wear clothes. Often, guests made him wear clothes now so they could punish him later. Loki could not disobey one of Magis's guests. He let the cloak be draped over him but trembled at the expectant fear of punishment.

The golden prince wrapped an arm around his brother before lifting Mjolnir into the air. A shaft of golden-rainbow light crashed around them and lifted them into the air. It was familiar but frightening to the tortured man. They landed on golden floors surrounded by a golden dome topped with spinning gears. It was only Thor's strength that saved the other man from falling to the ground.

"Welcome home, Prince Thor," said the deep, meditative voice of the gatekeeper. "Welcome back, Prince Loki." Loki clung to his muscular guardian.

"Thank you, Heimdall. Please notify the healing room that we're on our way," Thor answered. "And tell mother and father we're home."

Healers and nurses crowded the small room as the slave-prince lay on the soul forge. Thor stood in the corner watching. Frigga strolled in after awhile and the blond man noted the king hovering in the doorway. It was rather crowded in here, after all.

They all watched and listened. From time to time, the head healer gave Loki an order. His body went rigid as he was forced to comply. His Seidr was almost gone. He wanted, no NEEDED to sleep. The order not to had been lifted, but it still seemed impossible without permission to. When his Seidr was gone, would he still be able to willingly comply? His eyelids fluttered as he struggled for consciousness.

"Orders confuse him," Frigga noted after a while. "You must try to request of him."

"Confuse? No, mother. He is bound by control devices to follow all orders," Thor corrected. "I tried to remove existing orders, but he's still acting like a slave."

Their voices washed over the pale prince. Vaguely, he noted they were talking about him. Why would they fuss so much over a slave? Loki, Doll, whatever his name was now. He was nothing -- nothing to them.

"We'll try not to order him any more, Majesty," the head healer said. Magis tea? Loki's head shot up in near panic! Master was here! Where was he? He couldn't see him, he couldn't hear him! What was happening? His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to assess his situation.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder. Loki looked into the face of the head healer, then regretted it. She smiled kindly, which always boded ill from one of Magis's guests. 

"Can you try to relax, my prince?" she asked carefully. "No one is going to hurt you. You're safe now." Loki laid back, but he found it hard to relax. Why hadn't she ordered him?

As Loki lay on the soul forge, Magis did not appear. The humming medical equipment and the soft voices of the nurses and healers washed over him. He found himself relaxing, and with it, nodding off.

Loki woke up screaming! His neck was on fire. He'd barely begun to heal from the last burning, and here he was again. Why? He must have missed an order. But of course he did! He slept without permission and the collar was punishing him. How could he be so foolish? 

Healers rushed about, noting the behavior of the collar, wondering what to do about it. Their Asgardian strength could not break it. Their locksmithery was useless. No tool brought forth could scratch, much less break it. Odin stepped forth with command in his presence. The healers automatically stepped aside. Glaring out of one eye, Odin tapped the staff, Gungnir, against the floor. It made a mighty boom and the collar fell off. Loki stopped screaming, subsiding to painful whimpers. The healers moved in to check the damaged flesh and ease his suffering.

When Loki woke, something felt ... odd...

What was it? He hadn't even remembered falling asleep. Had someone ordered him this time? He hadn't been awoken by Seidr or burning. He'd woke of his own will, because he was done sleeping. When was the last time that had happened?

But that wasn't the thing that felt odd. No, he felt... somehow lighter... as though a weight had been lifted.

Loki lifted his head and contemplated sitting up. He was wearing clothes again. How did that happen? He was on a bed, a small bed meant for one person, and he'd been granted a blanket. Why so much kindness? He wasn't sick or pregnant. He'd have to be female for the latter anyway. Deciding he was well enough to rise and work, Loki threw off the blanket and folded it carefully as he'd been trained to do. He took off the medical gown and folded it, too, placing it on top of the blanket. That's when he realized what was missing.

As Loki had raised the gown over his head, it hadn't caught on the bulky thrall collar. He wasn't wearing it! He stroked his neck, unable to believe it was gone. He'd spent all that time with Anwyn, and later the Doctor, trying to remove this cursed device. They'd learned only Magis could remove it. He was here after all. Why hadn't he shown himself? Why hadn't he spoken to his favorite pet? Why was he allowing him so much time to heal and recover and rest? Loki grew more confused as he realized his situation.

Loki moved cautiously toward the door. He had best find his master and serve him. He didn't even know what time it was. Why had Magis allowed him to be brought to another strange planet? Not strange, oddly familiar, as though from a past life. He hadn't been on Asgard in ... he didn't know how long. He'd lost all sense of time during captivity. Perhaps he'd be allowed to find out before returning.

Loki reached for the doorknob when it suddenly turned from the other side and the door burst open, nearly hitting him and knocking him down. Ever cautious, Loki danced out of the way just in time.

"Brother, you are awake!" bellowed Thor. Loki put his hands to his ears, his head suddenly throbbing. The older brother realized the signs and dialed his voice back. "How are you? Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, the best sleep of my life, actually," Loki answered politely. "If you'll excuse me, I must find my master."

"Your master? What are you talking about?" Thor asked, his brows wrinkling in confusion.

"Am I still to entertain you?" Loki asked, growing confused himself. The vein in his temple throbbed as his own brows creased.

"Entertain? You are not a slave anymore. We freed you," Thor informed. The collar was gone. There was no shift in magic to coerce obedience. 

"Magis is here. He is the only one who can remove the collar," Loki insisted. Thor took a step into the room and Loki stepped back, allowing the large man to enter and sit on the bed.

"Ah, the collar," Thor said, thinking he finally understood. "No, father blasted it off with Gungnir. You were screaming something awful and your skin was burnt clean to the muscle. We had to do something." Loki tried to assimilate this information. Father, meaning the man that disowned him and cast him out to become a slave. And Magis. Master had pursued him across galaxies to take him back from Anwyn and the Doctor. He would not let Loki go so easily.

"Magis is here, I heard someone say his name," Loki said at last. "He did not let me go before, he will not let me go now."

"No. No, brother. Magis is not here. We escaped him and the two blood-suckers, remember?" Thor looked through those stunning electric blue eyes full of hope, willing the smaller man to understand.

"Escaped?" Loki's mind was warring with itself, trying to understand, trying to place himself. "You kidnapped me," he said slowly. "Yes, you kidnapped me and Magis has come to reclaim me! This is all your fault!" Loki grew more excited as he tried to reason, backing away from Thor's outstretched hand.

"Loki, listen to me," the blond said, rising from the bed once more.

"My master named me Doll," Loki spat. "He is coming for me!" Loki was terrified of Magis, but knew from experience the lengths he would go to to get him back. He knew it was ultimately best to stay in the green man's care.

"Magis is not here. He doesn't know where we are," Thor soothed. "Even if he did, he cannot reach us."

"I know the lengths he'll go to for me. He'll destroy worlds for my return!" Loki cowered against the wall and started sliding to the nearest corner. 

"Father won't let that happen! This vinvocci is no match for the might of Asgard and the All-Father." Thor edged nearer, not wanting to terrify his brother even more. "I won't let that happen. I came for you, and I will protect you."

A healer entered quietly from the open door. "Prince Thor! I must ask you to leave. You're upsetting my patient." Thor turned slightly and looked between the healer and the patient. She was right, of course. Loki was not being reasonable right now. Perhaps he could try again in a few days when his brother's head was in a better place. Sadly, Thor turned away from the cowering prince and trudged into the hall. The healer stepped forward cautiously.

"Prince Loki, I am healer Faye." Loki looked at her where she stood across the room. "I have been ordered to tend to you and see to your health. Will you come out of the corner?" Ordered... she'd been ordered. Did the order come from Magis or Odin? Was she a slave like him? He decided not to risk it. Even without the thrall collar, he could still be punished for disobedience. Loki stood and moved away from the corner, taking the submission stance he'd learned.

"That won't be necessary, sir. Won't you please put on some clothes?" Healer Faye spoke kindly.

"Slaves are not allowed to wear clothes," Loki said quietly.

"Patients are allowed to wear clothes. You will not be punished." Healer Faye held out the gown Loki had been wearing earlier. "You will not be punished for wearing this as long as you are in my care." Loki looked at it as though it was an alien organism. Cautiously he reached his hand out, as though he was afraid it might bite him. When he touched it and it did not bite, he scrambled into it and returned to the submission pose.

"That's better, Loki. Will you allow me to examine you?" Loki knew what that word meant. He could not refuse. It was what he was for, after all.

"You are free to do as you like," Loki intoned. Healer Faye stepped forward with a flat tablet in hand. Loki tensed, waiting for her touch. His privates jumped as though to escape her "examination". Healer Faye did not touch him. She pointed the tablet at him (like a remote) and pushed a button. A golden grid jumped out of it and stood before the patient. Loki looked at it bewildered. He remembered this, vaguely, as though from another life. Wasn't she going to play with him?

Fiddling with the buttons, Healer Faye caused the grid to pass through her patient's body, scanning his every fiber. Then she caused the grid to turn and pass through him vertically. When she was finished, she pushed a final button and the grid disappeared. She punched some numbers into a cylinder, then pressed it against Loki's arm. It hissed and pinched his skin, causing him to glance at it, then she pulled it away and stepped back. Loki looked at her in confusion.

Was it medicine? Was it an aphrodisiac ? Was it something to cause him slow pain? He'd had experience with all of the above.

Healer Faye went to the wall beside the bed and pushed some buttons. A tray of breakfast meats slid out on a little table. "I encourage you to eat as much as you can. You're emaciated and anemic. The more you eat, the quicker you'll return to full health." Loki still watched, not understanding this kindness. She was ordered... why was Magis treating him this way? Kindness now, pain later? The greater the kindness, the worse the pain... Loki trembled at the thought. "I'll send some books, shall I? I remember you used to love to read." Loki vaguely remembered reading, as though from a past life. The healer left with a smile.

The aroma of hot food tickled the prince's nose. He shuffled over, feeling like a naughty child about to steal a cookie. He glanced around nervously. No one was around. Magis was not there to hand feed him. This was not scraps left on the floor, either. It was a real meal, with silverware and napkins and everything! Was it really for him, a lowly slave, the bottom of the social order?

Loki leaned over the platter and inhaled deeply. His mouth twitched in an unfamiliar way. Muscles were trying to work that he'd not used in ... how long had it been?

Loki ignored the silverware. He wasn't allowed to touch such finery. He cautiously reached a hand over the plate. Someone was bound to catch him. He picked up a sausage. A sudden shift caused him to jump back and throw a panicked glance over his shoulder. No one was there. He looked back. He was still holding the sausage? Carefully, not believing it was real, he lifted the tantalizing meat to his lips. It barely touched. He pulled it back, licking the flavor off his lips. A tingling sensation he once knew as pleasure coursed through his body. He stuck out his tongue and pressed the tip of the sausage to it. Such rich flavor! Finally, he took a tiny, careful bite. The breaking of skin made just enough noise that Loki looked around wildly for Magis or a guest to come and punish him. No one was there. Not even Healer Faye. 

Something strange was happening inside this god. Where did that come from? He was a slave, not a god. Not any more. Still, he reveled in this strange new feeling. He vaguely remembered it, as though from a past life. All at once, Loki shoved the rest of the sausage into his mouth and chewed ravenously. If he was going to be punished, he might as well earn it.

Loki turned to the plate of food and assessed which piece he wanted to try next. He picked up a thick meaty bird's leg and ripped off a large chunk with his teeth. He leaned over the plate possessively, glancing over his shoulder obsessively for challengers. No one came. He continued to stuff his face. It was more food than he'd eaten in a month. 

He looked at his dirty hands, then at the polished silver. If he was going to be punished, he might as well earn it. He picked up the foreign item and held it expertly, memory reflex setting in. He cut his remaining food and ate it off the fork. His facial muscles worked hard, but they were also trying to do something foreign: smile.

Loki stood up straight and looked around. He was a mess. Evidence of his crime were all over his face and hands and gown. Still, he wore the unfamiliar smile. It dropped suddenly as his stomach lurched. Had they poisoned the meat? Did they feed him this sumptuous meal only to watch him vomit? There were two other doors in this room, both smaller than the main door. Loki didn't know which one to run to. He didn't have time to decide. The food came up all over his gown and the floor.

Suddenly, the door opened. Loki froze in panic. He'd had no time to clean up his embarrassment! He was being a naughty slave! He expected the burn of the collar to correct his misdeeds, but the collar was gone. Loki didn't know what to do without it.

A kindly woman with golden hair and a maternal smile entered. Loki recognized her. Loki adored her. He remembered vaguely, as though in a past life. Her smile faltered and she called out the door for someone down the hall. Loki assumed the submission position in his filth. He didn't know what else to do.

"Hello," the woman said gently. She didn't give him a name or a title. She was choosing her words wisely. This was a wise woman. "I've called for someone to clean you up. Please don't be alarmed."

"I-I can do it myself," Loki stammered. "If I know where to go."

"You are a patient here, we'll take care of you," the woman said. She entered slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. "I see you've eaten your breakfast a little too fast."

"Was it poisoned?" Loki asked before he could stop himself. He forced his head further down in submission, hoping the woman wouldn't mind. He was familiar with the kindly ones. They always seemed to cause the most pain because they started by soothing and comforting.

"No. You vomited because your stomach is not used to holding so much nourishment. This will change in time."

A healer entered and started cleaning Loki's vomit. She unabashedly lifted Loki's gown over his head, revealing his naked body to the woman. Loki was used to it. He didn't know how to mind. The woman frowned at the sight of his full, deathly thin frame. For some reason, it caused the patient's pale cheeks to blush a pale pink.

The healer ushered Loki to one of the small doors, which turned out to be a private bathroom. Why did she clean him so gently? She allowed him to feel hot, soothing water and fragrant bubbles. She washed carefully around his wounds, particularly his chafed penis and torn anus. 

Coming out of the bath with clean hair and skin, the healer put a fresh gown on her patient and wrapped him in a fluffy robe. Then she escorted him to sit on his bed, where she covered him with the blanket. The wise woman was still there.

Loki bowed his head and averted his eyes, like a well-trained slave. "It is good to have you back," she said, still carefully avoiding names and titles.

"Thank you, Mistress," Loki intoned, still wondering what she wanted. She may have been adored in Loki's past life, but things were different now. He still belonged to Magis.

"Is that what you're going to call me?" the woman asked. She put a gentle, familiar hand on the young man's trembling chin. She lifted his chin until their eyes met. They stared at each other for a long time.

"M-m-moth-ther?" Loki stuttered.

"My son," Frigga breathed, her eyes watering over. She tried to pull him into a hug and the slave went rigid. Then, he went limp in her arms. What right did he have to deny a guest whatever they wanted? His purpose was to please. "Loki," the woman sobbed into his shoulder, moving his arms around her to encourage him to return the embrace. He obeyed mechanically.

"My master named me Doll," Loki informed dryly. "Is he here? When will he visit me?" The woman knew better than to argue with a damaged mind. She chose her words carefully.

"No son. Your name is Loki again. You no longer belong to Magis. If he shows up looking for you, he will not find you. He will not touch you. You are free and you are my son." Loki didn't know how to process this. Of course, Magis would come.

"He will not let me go," Loki said monotonously. "Not until I bear him magical children." The woman cringed and squeezed her child all the harder.

"Do not worry about that now," she sighed into his shoulder. "Just let me hold you. Let us care for you and help you heal."

They held each other for a long time. Loki felt his gown grow moist with the woman's hot tears. He didn't know why, but he found himself succumbing to tears. When the shoulder beneath him felt moisture, the woman held him tighter, and he held her tighter. They cried silently in each others arms.

When they'd sighed themselves under control, the woman pulled back and attempted a sad smile. Loki stiffly obeyed the unspoken command to sit back.

"I uh," she tried in a trembling voice. She swallowed and tried again. "Healer Faye said she offered you a book. I brought it for you." She held out the leather-bound volume and Loki stared at it. "You used to love to read, do you remember?" Loki looked at her and said nothing. His forehead wrinkled anxiously and the vein in his temple throbbed. "Go on, take it," she urged. Loki obeyed, holding the priceless treasure in his long delicate fingers. "I have to go, son. Royal duties of the court and all that. I'll visit as soon as I can."

Loki stared at her as she said her farewell. She leaned in to hug him one more time, then hurried toward the door. It was the strangest encounter the slave had ever had. There had been no servitude, no demand for sex, not even a request for a cup of tea. She merely wanted to hold him and give him a book. Loki didn't know how to process this woman he once called mother. He didn't know how to work her into his current persona. So, he set those thoughts aside and turned his attention to her gift.

The book felt familiar and strange at the same time. The texture glided under Loki's sensitive fingertips. The embossed letters of the title and author glowed subtly. It had been so long since he'd seen letters. He remembered them vaguely, as though in a past life.

He held it to his nose, taking in the familiar scent of printed paper and leather. It used to be one of his favorite scents, in another life. He dared stick out his tongue and tasted the leather spine, just for the full experience of a BOOK! Opening the cover, the leather cracked delightfully. Loki adored the swish of paper as he turned the first page. He grabbed a bunch and flipped them, taking in the flapping sound, the smooth feel of gathered pages, the faint aroma of literature and knowledge wafting from between the pages. That strange unfamiliar facial twitch was happening again. He let himself smile.

When he'd thoroughly enjoyed the book itself, Loki sat back like a free man and allowed himself to enjoy the book's contents. Reading... it used to be one of his favorite things. He remembered vaguely, as though in a past life.

Loki didn't know how long he'd read for. Several chapters, at least. The slave had lost all track of time. Loki hadn't even discovered what day it was. He only stopped reading when Healer Faye returned with some more medicine.

"How are you feeling, prince Loki?" she asked. Loki decided to embrace this new name, at least until his master returned to collect him.

"I am fine," came the rote response. Slaves were always fine, even when they weren't.

"I see you are enjoying the book," Faye commented as she scanned her patient.

"Yes. Thank you." Loki wanted to put it away. He wanted to keep it with him. He vaguely remembered having spacious dimensional pockets, as though from a past life. He made the familiar actions to call Seidr forth and relocate his new possession. He felt it bubble to the skin, but stayed under the surface. Something was stopping it. Loki made a harsh noise that startled the healer as he threw his hands to the back of his neck.

"The disk," Loki said mournfully. "The disk." It was still blocking his Seidr.

"Oh? Is that bothering you?" Healer Faye asked as she looked at the back of his neck.

"It is blocking my Seidr. I knew my master was here! He would not remove both items and release all control over me. He has left this on as a reminder of his ownership." Loki lowered his hand and sat stiffly.

"Prince Loki," Healer Faye began.

"My master named me Doll," Loki reminded. Healer Faye did not address this.

"Our healers and technicians are studying this device as we speak. They are looking for a safe way to remove it. We could cause you brain damage if we aren't careful." Loki struggled to assimilate this new bit of data so he did not respond. 

Healer Faye continued her scans and gave Loki another shot. Then she went to the wall and summoned another plate of food.

"Might I advise you eat a little slower this time? Your stomach needs to get used to eating like this again." Healer Faye looked at Loki, who nodded his understanding, and she left.

Loki woke on a soul forge. It had been two days, he'd counted, and he still hadn't seen his master. His neck felt stiff and for a moment, he thought they'd tricked him. He thought the thrall collar was back in place.

Loki lifted his hand tentatively and touched his neck. It was not a collar, but gauze. Medical gauze had been wrapped around his neck to protect the wound from open surgery. Loki felt around the back of his neck. He could not feel the control disk through the gauze. He slipped his fingers under the white cloth. The disk was not there! He was excited and confused in such great measure that he barely felt the pain of touching an open wound.

"Easy there, prince," said a new healer. He held up the disk to show Loki it was truly removed from his flesh. "Are you looking for this? We removed it as promised. Scans indicate no brain damage will result. You're free!" The strange man spoke so lightly that Loki had a hard time not feeling his joy. Loki heard him, but didn't know how to accept it. So he lowered his hand to his side and laid quietly.

A little while later, another healer entered and helped the man move Loki back to his room. More books were on the side table, as well as a vase of flowers from Frigga's garden. The two healers made sure Loki was comfortable, then took their leave.

It was the next visitor that really surprised the slave-no-more. A tall, white-haired, one-eyed man entered the room looking regal, yet somehow scared.

Loki looked at him. He remembered him vaguely, as though from a past life. Loki's eyes brimmed with tears that spilled over onto his cheeks. He scrambled from his comfortable position on the bed and took to his knees, head bowed low to the ground. Loki sobbed as he waited for judgement. 

"Forgive me," he blubbered. Odin's leather boots drew near. Loki heard but did not see. A hand rested surprisingly lightly on his thin shoulder, causing him to gasp and throw his head up. Odin was kneeling before him, tears sitting on his bottom eyelid.

"Forgive me, my son," he said in a rasping growl. "I did not mean for these things to happen to you. I did not know, or I would have come for you sooner."

Loki drew his face down again, unable to look at this commanding force the same way he would have been unable to look at Magis. His broken mind did not understand Odin's words.

"Why do you apologize to a slave?" Loki asked, voice muffled in his knees, yet stable from crying.

"You are no longer a slave. The control instruments have been removed and destroyed. I restore to you your lands and titles. You are only a slave in your mind, now." Loki still wouldn't look up, so Odin used his strength to lift the weakened prince to his feet.

"You remember the time before, don't you? You remember your training. You remember being an Odinson?" the old man asked hopefully.

Loki looked around wildly, glad there was someone to hold him up as he felt too weak to hold himself. Muscle memory was still demanding he submit. "Vaguely, as though from a past life," Loki answered finally.

"No, not a past life. This life," Odin encouraged. "You are still who you have always been." Loki considered that as Odin sat the two of them on the edge of the bed. Was it true? Was he the same? Could he return to the man he was back then? No! That man is gone, dead! Loki sighed as he looked at the old man, preparing a response. That man was dead, and so was Doll.

"No, father," Loki said, the new word sounding strange and happy on his tongue. "It was a past life. It was two lives ago. And the slave Doll was a past life. This is a new life and I am a new man. I must learn... we must all learn who I am now." Odin patted the young prince on his shoulder.

"Very wise, my son," he said proudly.

The end.


End file.
